Game Night for the Lonely Hearts Club
by Shatterdoll
Summary: Russia visits the empty houses of other nations when he's feeling particularly lonely. On one particular visit to one of America's homes the occupant unexpectedly shows up.


This was written as a secret Santa gift for the tumblr RusAme event. It's been so long since I've been on here everything is different OTL

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Loneliness was a state of being that Russia was long familiar with but one he never quite got accustomed to. It snuck over him like a shroud, touch like that of General Winter breathing down his neck, chilling him to the core of his bones. It wasn't the same as a state of isolation that nations sometimes chose to or were forced to enter. It was something wholly more personal and something he quite detested.

In the past dealing with his loneliness had been a personal affair but now the world was smaller, more connected, and it was far simpler to extend one's reach to another. The problem with this being that Russia still had difficulty in making connections. Instead, he went 'visiting'. It could be difficult to pinpoint where exactly a fellow nation might be at any given time as many of them had numerous houses for reasons of practicality or pleasure and so Russia would simply pop by his best guess.

Over time, as others greeted his visits with suspicion, he had decided it was better if no one was home when he dropped by. There was nothing to explain and being surrounded by the personal environment of someone else was almost as cozy as being there with them. That's what Russia told himself, anyway.

For his current bout of loneliness, Russia had chosen to visit one of America's abundant homes. He never worried when 'visiting' America. What were the chances of him being at the house Russia chose at random? This time it was the New York City abode. Not one of his favorites but one of the most convenient for his purposes.

Breaking in was fairly simple. For all America's security it was always so easy to override it and after a few moments of disabling an alarm and getting past a lock, Ivan walked inside as if he was an invited guest. He had to fumble for the lights and almost knocked something over in the process before the room was flooded with light.

Russia paused, looking around slowly, as if it was his first time being there. It took a few seconds for his hand to slide away from the doorknob, falling away as he began to walk further into the house. He moved into the living room, snapping on another light as he went, and walked into the center.

For a minute he closed his eyes and took in the feeling of the place. He liked coming here because it was more saturated by America's presence than many of his other homes. It had a fresh scent to it that many of the older nations' homes lacked, being saturated in mildewed age, his included. This house did not contain any relics of the past, no ancient reminders of time gone by. Everything was clean and modern and sharp, the faintest scent of hamburgers and mint toothpaste underlying these things. At least, Russia fancied he smelled these things. They were what he most associated with America, only lacking the hint of freshly minted money or fresh wheat (never both at once). America's presence was everywhere even in his absence.

Russia took in one more deep breath then opened his eyes, smiling softly to himself. Yes, this had been a good choice. He walked over to the oversized entertainment system against the wall, eyes brushing over movies and games as he contemplated how he should spend his time. They caught on a video game title that looked new. It wasn't often that he indulged in video games, had even scoffed at them for a time, but Tetris had long ago softened him to the pastime and now was a perfect time to indulge. America would surely not mind; he loved playing them so very much.

It took a moment of fumbling with the machinery and messing with buttons a little too small for his fingers but Russia finally got the system set up and ready to go. He pulled out a bottle of vodka that he had brought with him. There were certain rules he stuck to when visiting and one of them was not taking anything from his 'hosts', anything from the kitchen included. Other than the front door he also refused to enter rooms that were closed. Just because he was breaking and entering didn't mean he wanted to pry.

It was a few levels into the game and half the bottle of vodka in that a strange sound came to Ivan's ears. He paused the game, tilting his head. What was…? Odd. For a moment he thought he'd heard the sound of something from the front door but now it was quiet. He frowned, brow furrowing as he began to stand. Maybe it was just his imagination but he might as well check. He didn't want anyone else trying to break in.

He'd just started towards the front door when it suddenly burst open. "Look buddy I don't know who you think you are but I'm not afraid to use this!"

Russia raised a hand ineffectively as he was assaulted with Chinese takeout, Chow Mein splattering down his coat. He slowly lowered his hand, glancing down at the noodles and then up in horrified shock at America, who looked equally surprised to see him. "What…Russia? Dude, what the _fuck_ are you doing here? You gave me a heart attack!"

Russia continued to stare at him helplessly. What was America doing here? Other than the fact it was his home and that everything inside of it was his own personal property and he had every right to be there. His tongue felt awkward in his mouth as he tried to answer and all that came out was mumbled Russian.

America continued to stare at him, eyebrows furrowing in utter incomprehension. His eyes traveled just past the other man and he saw the video game and then the vodka and something seemed to click behind his eyes. "Man, are you drunk?"

Drunk? Russia was about to deny it. Of course he was not drunk. It took quite a substantial amount to do that and he'd only had enough to wet his lips, really. Instead he continued to stare at America. That seemed to cement it in the younger nation's mind. "Okay yeah. I really don't know what your drunk ass is doing in my apartment but did you really need to break in? You could have called or waited or something. Kind of rude. Federal crime, really. Law and Order, Breaking and Entering Unit would bust your ass so hard for that- What are you doing here?"

It took a moment for Russia's inner translator to kick in, his English more accented than it had been in a long time. "Playing video games. What are you doing here?"

"I live here, duh? You were waiting for me, weren't you? You're not going to tell me you just got drunk and decided to break in here, are you? I mean I know you're all sorts of whack but even you can't be that wiggity whack. I could have done some serious damage man. Look at my leftovers I was going to eat those. Instead I used them to defend my life. So were you waiting for me or not?"

Yes? No? Which was the safest answer? "Yes. I was waiting for you. I was…in the area. Getting a…Broadway poster. For Putin."

America looked so smug over that it made Russia both confused and a bit like punching his face. "I knew it. Okay, okay. Well cheese and crackers, dude. Next time leave me a message at least!"

Russia nodded hurriedly, wondering if he could get out of this. Now America was staring at him expectantly. What did he want? "Can I help you?"

America's eyebrows shot up. "Uh? I don't know, you're kind of the home invader here. I think the question is can I help you. You're here, so you want something, right?"

Of course America would assume he wanted something. Why else would he drop by? Russia couldn't think of any business that wouldn't send the other into a rant of vast stupidity but now that he was here wouldn't it be nice if they spent some time together? He couldn't think of how to ask that in a way that wouldn't have America laughing in his face. Instead he finally pointed to his jacket. "I want to clean my coat."

"But that happened after I- Okay, you know what? Never mind. You're clearly confused from being drunk. I've had a long day so if you're drinking I'm sure you don't mind if I crack open a beer. I'll throw your coat into the washing machine, sound good?"

Russia smiled, starting to relax. If America was dumb enough to believe that then he should be fine. "Yes, that is agreeable I think."

"It's agreeable, he says. Alright, take it off. Just the coat, that wasn't an invitation." Russia unbuttoned the coat, a little wary of actually trusting it to America. He liked it and he didn't want it ruined. America seemed to pick up on his hesitation and rolled his eyes. "I know how to handle vintage stuff. You think this jacket is imitation? If you don't want it dry cleaned then fork it over."

With this valid but untrustworthy assurance, Russia finally handed over his jacket and America disappeared from his sight for a good few minutes. Russia fidgeted, wondering if he should have left when he had the chance. The loneliness was still gnawing at his heels, though, and he'd rather handle this mess than face it somewhere unknown, unfamiliar. At the very least he shared an intimacy with America built on knowledge and time and shared history, no matter how shaky it may or may not have been at any given time.

When America next appeared, he was cracking open a beer Russia knew he had to use a fake ID to obtain. It amused him a little more than it should. "Are you still standing there? You didn't even clean up the Chinese."

America stepped over it rather than dealing with it himself and walked into the living room to see what Russia had been playing. He glanced back over at him then stared for a moment. Russia fidgeted under the gaze when it lingered a little too long. "What?"

"Oh uh…Nothing really. It's just weird to see you without one of your way out of date jackets. It's not even cold right now. Kind of makes you look like a tool." Russia giggled, irritated, wondering if perhaps America might like to get more intimately acquainted with his fist after all. America moved the conversation forward before he could inquire. "So this has a two player option. Want to play until your jacket's done?"

All desire for face punching vanished and Russia perked up. That was a quality time activity and America was the one inviting him to do so. "Yes. I would enjoy that. Though I do hope two-player mode is more challenging than the regular levels. Even 'intoxicated' I found them almost dull in their ease."

"Hey! It is not boring! And yeah, you'll see. Versus mode is way harder because then you're competing against Alfred F. Jones and he is the king of video games. Prince of video games," he amended. "I'll get that king title from Japan someday."

"Well then. I am looking forward to seeing how much of a challenge you are." Russia took a seat as America plugged in a second controller.

"Oh you'll see alright. You'll be seeing how much I kick your ass." America plopped down beside Russia, forcing him to take the second player controller. He quickly switched things to two-player mode and flashed Russia a cheeky grin. "Don't worry big guy, I'll go easy on you."

Russia returned a serene smile. "I cannot promise the same."

Something competitive glinted in America's eyes that Russia was well acquainted with and his anticipation only increased. America was so cute when he got too worked up. This was going to be so much fun.

As they started playing Russia could not find much difference than as a single player except for the abundant amount of cockiness and snark displayed by America. As they both got a little more into it there was indeed an added thrill of competition. America was far more difficult to kill than the NPCs. It was as America paused to swig down some beer, guard down, that Russia finally made his big move, taking a beautiful sniper shot that cut America's character down.

America almost choked on his beer and hastily set it down. "No way! Aren't you supposed to be drunk? It's just because I was distracted. Man… I bet you can't do that again."

"Oh no? I suppose we will find out, yes? If I can, you must chug down some of my vodka."

America scoffed at the wager. "How is drinking your vodka even a punishment?"

"Oh trust me. For you I am sure it will be." Russia giggled and America's expression hardened. "You're on then!"

There was a great deal less snark from America the next time around but it did not keep Russia from beating him once more. America stared at the screen in shock, his jaw tightening. He held his hand out impatiently. "Hit me. I can take it. Then we're playing again because that also had to be a fluke."

Russia shrugged and generously offered up his vodka. "Try to drink it down in one gulp."

"Yeha, yeah. I've done shots in my day, I'm not a little kid!" The bratty expression could have fooled Russia but he looked on eagerly, prepared to be amused. America tilted the bottle back and therein made his mistake. Russia could see the regret as the liquid hit his tongue and surged to the back of his throat. America paused for a moment, eyes watering before he managed to swallow down hard. He coughed, pounding his chest then reaching up to wipe at his eyes. "Hmph. That wasn't all that bad. Nothing compared to moonshine."

"Oh, is that so? Then how about this, little America. If you are so tough, loser of the next round has to drink the rest of it in one go."

America looked a little sick at the mere thought of it but he wasn't about to back down from a challenge. "You're on, dudeski. Prepare to get crunk."

Once more they faced off against each other and this time America was completely silent, tongue peeking out in his concentration. This time he got the better of Russia and poor luck had nothing to do with it. Russia wouldn't deny he had won that round through skill but that didn't mean he would say it out loud, either.

America pumped his fist victoriously into the air. "Boom! Head shot! Drink up. Try not to be too upset over it. Happens to the best of us."

"I do not mind losing if the terms are not disagreeable." Russia toasted him and chugged down the rest of the bottle, a burn he found pleasant trailing from his throat to his stomach. He wiped his mouth, setting the empty bottle down. "Shall we proceed? You may pick the stakes this time."

America gaped at him, amazed he could drink all that down like it was water. Dude was a total tank. He shook out of the state and grinned, mood elevated by his latest victory. "Oh. So we're gonna keep playing it that way. Very well then. Just know you've opened yourself up to a world of pain. Literally! Next time loser has to jump barefoot on a Lego." He grinned smugly. If they were going to do this they was going to play it in hard mode. What was the fun if there wasn't some kind of actual risk involved?

Russia was somewhat bemused by the bet but it would be interesting. "A Lego, mm? Very well, if those are your terms."

"Alright! Let's do this thing!" America went back to speaking out loud but saved them both from having to listen to him brag about himself. His dialog was mostly a mixture of curses that Russia found delightful in their creativity. He joined him, combining Russian and English into colorful exclamations. When America picked one of them up from him he was so pleased he was practically glowing.

The cheerful banter of swearing was cut short as Russia once more beat him. This time it was dumb luck and even Russia was amazed by the outcome. America stared at the screen in horror. "No…No. Oh my god nooooooooooo! What fate have I brought upon myself? How did this happen to me? I've made my mistakes!" He collapsed onto his side, burying his face into the side of the couch.

Russia watched this display and finally giggled. America was acting so ridiculously. It was just a Lego. Russia knew for a fact he'd lived through being shot and worse so he didn't see what the big deal was. America sat up, glaring at him. "I'm glad you think my pain is funny."

"I really do. If it is truly such a daunting 'fate' then you do not have to do it, Alfred." Russia froze. Maybe the vodka had affected him more than he thought it would. He had not meant to use his familiar name. He hastily tried to apologize but America was charging ahead before he could, not having even seemed to notice.

"No! I must accept this. I'm the one who came up with it and I'm no coward. If I can never walk again, tell everyone I lost the ability while saving a bus filled with orphaned children from falling into a pit of acid." America closed his eyes solemnly, putting on a brave face before he left the room. A moment later he returned with a long, red Lego. It did not occur to Russia to even question why America had Legos on hand.

There was a little more ceremony than Russia thought was completely necessary as America set the Lego down just so, making sure the bumps were all facing upwards. He looked over at Russia, expression grim. "Wish me luck."

Russia smiled at him and saluted teasingly. "Good luck."

Taking a deep breath, America leapt up into the air as high as he could and came down on the Lego. The second he landed he fell over, clutching his foot. "Fffffuuuuck!"

Russia's eyes widened and he moved over to his side. Was it really that painful? "America! Are you alright?"

For a few seconds all America could do was clutch his foot, teeth gritted tightly. Gradually he started to relax and finally threw his head back, laughing loudly. "Did you see? I took that like a champ!"

Well that was an unexpected reaction. Russia stared then laughed with him. What else was there to do? "Yes. You were quite brave. I am sure braver than if you had been saving a bus filled with orphans from an acid bath. Shall we see if you can still walk?"

"Yup. Here, give me a hand." America released his foot and reached towards him. Russia was at first hesitant and then beamed, taking his hand and helping haul him up. America cringed as he put pressure on his heel but when he took a tentative step forward he indeed still was capable of walking. "Hallelujah! It's a miracle. Okay, next round! It's your turn to pick something. It's going to be hard topping the Lego thing, though, that's all I'm saying. Better try to think of something with a little bite."

America had not yet let go of his hand and Russia was distracted by that, so flustered he ended up being the one to loosen his grip first. "Let me think. Hmmm." The flash of America's glistening smile was all he needed for inspiration. A little bite, he said? "The winner of the next round gets to bite the loser on the nose."

America blinked at him then snorted loudly, once more letting out his iconic obnoxious laughter. "Took that a little literally but I'm down. Next loser gets bitten. Now let's get down to business. I won't be defeated again!"

For once America was right and he gained the upper hand early on. Neither skill nor luck were on Russia's side that time and he came out the loser by the end. America grinned at his victory, turning towards Russia and flashing all those brilliantly white teeth at him. "Looks like I'll be giving your schnoz a bite. Good thing it's such a big target! C'mere big guy."

As he observed the toothy grin, Russia started to doubt if that had been such a good idea after all. Those teeth mixed with America's super strength could easily result in his nose being bitten right off his face. America snorted loudly. "Don't tell me you're going to chicken out after I jumped on that Lego. I didn't think the mighty Russian Federation was afraid of a little nibble. Weak. So weak."

"I am no such thing and I do not intend to back out. I am afraid that you have been drinking and that you very well may take off one of my favorite features."

"Oh please, man. I haven't had even half of what you've had and you're fiiine. I promise I won't break your pretty nose." America winked at him and gestured him closer.

With reluctance intact, Russia leaned closer to America, closing his eyes so he wouldn't have to watch as his face was mauled. Nothing came and he finally peeked his eye open. America was watching him looking amused by the whole thing. A second later he leaned in and carefully took Russia's nose between his teeth, giving it a playful nip. It lingered as his teeth slide lightly along the bridge before he pulled back. "Oh no. Are you scarred for life? Was it too much? Have I ruined your sacred nose?"

Russia's face felt warm and he pulled back, telling himself it was perhaps the vodka. America looked rather cute as his eyes crinkled with amusement but his smugness would not do at all. "Yes, I think I am whole, thankfully. For a moment I thought I was going to be swallowed up by your unusually enormous mouth." He reached up, wiping off traces of saliva.

America's expression turned to surprise and then indignation. "My mouth is perfectly perfect in every way! I bet your mouth couldn't store food for the winter. Also, you're one to talk having such a big head."

Russia giggled. This was fun. "Oh dear. Did I offend you? I did not mean to. I do not see what your point is, though. Of course I have a large head. Everything about me is quite large. Everything."

America gave him his very best 'bitch please' face. "Yeah well you're giant lips can kiss my star spangled ass. In fact, yes, that's exactly what you'll be doing. Loser of the next round has to kiss the winner's ass."

Russia couldn't help but raise a brow at that. "Are you entirely sure you are not the one who is too drunk right now? Is that a bet you are willing to make? You may lose."

America waggled his eyebrows. "Your bitten nose disagrees. You can bet I'm gonna win this next round."

As if in defiance he drank down more of his beer and all Russia could think was that he really should not mix beer and hard alcohol. That was a stomach ache waiting to happen the next morning. They settled back down, side by side, and began the next round.

The tension was much thicker this time around and Russia could feel how much America wanted to win this. It was cute and America was cute. It made him want to beat him into the dust and that's exactly what he did. Russia absolutely, completely, and totally slaughtered America that time. The look of shocked dismay on America's face was one of the most precious things he had ever seen.

America slowly turned that look of shocked dismay onto Russia. "You…What the actual fuck? Does your drunkenness actually give you super videogame strength? Is that what I've actually been contending with all night? That's not even fair, dude!"

"I suppose that must be it. How tragic for you." America went straight into a pout and Russia laughed, reaching up to give him a gentle poke between the eyes. "You know, I do not expect you to actually kiss my butt."

The pout became almost defiant. "Oh no. I'm going to kiss your ass alright. You think I'm playing games here? Turn around and I'll take it like a man."

Russia was fairly certain America was in fact fairly drunk at this point. "No, really, it is quite alright."

"No, really. I'm going to kiss your jumbo sized ass."

"My ass is not-" Before he could even finish protesting America began tugging at his pants. "What are you doing?!"

"Turn around bright eyes! I want to get this over with already! Then I'll win the next round for sure."

Russia struggled in his grasp, trying to pull away. "I told you it is not necessary! Really!"

"No, it is! Or you'll tell everyone I'm a coward and a cheat. Now hold still already!" America struggled with Russia as he tried to crawl over the side of the couch. He grabbed his waist, pulling him closer, and Russia let out a squeak of surprise. As he glanced back he was struck stiff by the intensity of America's gaze. It was determined, almost piercing. The distraction was all he needed. America was strong and had no problem dragging him back by the hips. The battle for his pants came next, hands getting smacked out of the way repeatedly and with great force. Somehow America won out, dragging Russia's pants down off his hips and hugging his thighs as he leaned in and planted a kiss high up on the left cheek.

Victorious, America released him and sat back. Russia tugged his pants up hastily, flustered but intrigued. America seemed rather calm about this. No, not calm. There was something intense still lingering in his expression. What was this? He couldn't tell if it was funny or exciting. A bit of both.

Before Russia could even think to say something America blurted with iron-clad conviction, "Next one to lose has to suck the other's dick."

Silence settled between the two of them until the space was occupied by Russia's shocked laughter. "You cannot be serious?"

"Oh I am serious. Serious as the plague. All the plagues. I am bird flu, here to fly in your face. You best recognize what a stone cold serious fox I am. Unless you're not up to the challenge. I just totally kissed your ass. Are you saying you don't think you could handle something similar? I mean if you can't, best say something now. I won't let you out of that like you tried to do. There is no returning once the pact of dick sucking has been made. So what do you say?"

America seemed deadly serious about this but that was no surprise. He tended to get gung ho over impressively stupid things. Still, the look in his eyes had Russia's heart pounding and he really didn't know how he could refuse him. Things had certainly escalated quickly but Russia was more than happy to follow the flow of this exuberant youth. He did not even choose to mention that America was picking the stakes twice in a row now. "If you are so sure then very well. I am in."

"That's the spirit! I can always count on you to do the crazy shit! Now prepare yourself for this. The match of the century begins now!"

America reset the level, eyes sharp and determined and far more serious than he could ever bothered to be at any of their meetings. As America's fingers began to fly across the buttons it was then that Russia got a taste for the fact that he must have legitimately been holding back before. Not giving it his all in the very least. He seemed to be doing so now and he was every bit as brutal as Russia had been the turn before. There was dead silence between them and there was a moment where Russia was sure he could hear America's teeth creaking from clenching them so hard.

It came down to the final kill, time ticking down. There came a moment in which it was kill or be killed and Russia's finger hovered over the button. Just as he was about to press it he paused, changing his mind. In that short pause America took the shot and won the round. He stood abruptly, throwing his controller down hard enough to crack it. "I won! I fucking _won_. Did you see that shit? So pristine! Fucking suck it, Ivan!"

Russia's eyes widened slightly and then his expression softened, became almost kind. "Alright."

America's gloating was cut short, arms lowering slightly. "Come again?"

Grabbing the back of his pants, Russia's tugged America back down onto the couch. "That was the bet, right? That if you were to win I would have to 'suck it', as you so eloquently put it just now."

America's surprised grin seemed to get stuck and he started laughing, the slightest edge of hysteria to it. "Wha- Wait. I mean I think we can agree that was more like a joke or something. Right?"

"Oh no. You are such a stone cold serious fox, Alfred," Russia purred the name this time, comfortable using it now that America had used his and had not protested the prior use. "You took your loss last round and I will take mine. Besides, you said you would not let me out of it. No one likes a flip-flopper."

The laughter only jumped higher in pitch as Russia gently started pushing him back against the couch. "Look. Look I think we just need to take a moment to- Why are you so okay with this? You're supposed to be all upset and like 'no dude' and…"

"But did I not already tell you? I have no qualms with taking a loss if I do not find the terms to be disagreeable." The way America went bright red at that was quite attractive, the way he became completely speechless even more precious.

With that settled, Russia began to unbuckle America's pants, tugging them down. He had a good chuckle over the fact that America's ass was indeed start spangled, his boxers an imitation of his flag. He ran his hand across the front of them and America squirmed. Russia paused, eyes flicking up to meet America's. "If you truly do not want me to do this I will not make you go through with it. You were the one insisting."

America choked on his own spit and Russia patiently waited for him to stop coughing, lightly stroking him through his boxers. "You're…You're seriously cool with this? Like not just drunk-regret-decisions-in-the-morning here, right? Did that make sense?"

"If you can forgive me for saying so, I think you are more intoxicated than I am at this point." He giggled, tracing his fingers along the gradually hardening cock. "Though it is quite difficult to distinguish the alcohol's flush from all of your blushing."

"I- I am not blushing!" America reached up to violently rub his cheek as if to wipe the discoloration from his face. "I'm the one who came up with this in the first place. Do your worst. I can take it!"

Oh, now this would be fun. Russia started to drag the boxer's down off America's hips. "I would never do such a thing. I assure you in this I will attempt my very best for you."

The sputtering was beyond darling and Russia waited until it had petered out before taking his attention from America's face and turning it downwards. "What a lovely shape you have."

America opened his mouth, not even sure how to respond to that, quickly biting his lip as Russia began to stroke him. He propped himself up to watch, even more frazzled at Russia's gaze of adoration towards his junk. He sank back slightly, swallowing as he grew harder.

Russia began to kiss along the underside tenderly, sometimes barely the brush of his lips. America's body tensed as his tongue finally ran along the skin, moving from the base to just below the head. "Is this alright?"

"Uh? Y-yeah. Yeah this is just fine." Smooth like jazz.

Russia smiled and rubbed at the head with his thumb, mouthing along the length of it and sometimes tilting his head to give him a suck. America began to squirm impatiently but it did nothing to speed Russia up, teasing him with the gentle caresses of tongue and fingertips until he was leaking pre-cum.

America's breath hitched and he let out a frustrated whine. "C'mon! The bet was for you to suck my dick, not slowly torture me to death via blue balls."

"Patience is considered a virtue, you know. I suppose you would not have that. You have grown quite accustomed to instant gratification. Where is the fun in that? Mmmm Alfred?" Russia pressed his tongue just under the head, licking the spot with lazy strokes of the tongue.

America made another whining sound but this time he didn't bother to tell Russia to hurry up. A good thing, too, or he would have just delayed the inevitable even more. Russia touched America's thigh, savoring the way it was trembling ever so slightly. He pressed an almost mocking kiss on the tip, eyes glancing up to meet America's. His mouth started to turn up into a smile again as he took the head between his lips, closing his mouth around it but nothing more. He savored the way America's chest began to rise and fall more rapidly, each breath quickened by anticipation. Finally, after what seemed a small eternity, he brushed his tongue over the slit and dipped his head a little further. The stifled sound America made was music to his ears.

Slowly, inch by inch, Russia made his way down, mapping things out with his tongue. When he took him in as far as he could he reached up to squeeze America's hip, rubbing the skin lightly with his thumb before sucking his way up. America took in a sharp breath and Russia, thinking preemptively, pressed down on his hip as the other tried to rock up into the warmth of his mouth.

"Now, now, Alfred, do try to be courteous." Russia kissed along the side of his cock a few times then swallowed him down again, this time doing it in one rapid movement.

America's hand shot down to Russia's head, fingers immediately tangling themselves in the ashen blond locks. He did make an actual effort not to rock his hips up again. Russia was so proud of him. As a reward he hummed softly, sending a wave of pleasure straight to his groin. "Fuck man. You are good at this. Do this very often?"

"Enough to know how to give my best." That was all Russia said on the matter before dipping his head back down, exploring once more with the tongue, dragging it up the full length then ducking his head back down and starting all over again.

As he continued he incorporated more sucking. America endured his best but finally let out a loud moan. It became increasingly difficult for him to keep his hips from arching up and clearly Russia did not trust him to, a hand remaining firmly on one of them. The heel of America's foot dug into the couch cushion as he tried to steady himself, let Russia have complete control of the situation. It always felt so good to let go of it all sometimes. He was in Russia's hands. Or rather, his mouth.

For a while Russia moved between drawn out and quick sucks, the change of pace dragging it out until America was a panting mess. He let out a frustrated growl as he felt his climax coming and Russia abruptly slowed things down again. "Fuck. _Fuck, _Ivan. You're killing me! Do you understand? This is me begging you right now! Don't make me wait any longer!"

Russia paused completely and America sobbed with frustration. After a second he finally pulled up all the way, lips brushing along him once more, practically mocking with the light gesture. "It never hurt to say please."

"Please stop being a douchebag and tormenting me with all this teasing!"

"That's all you had to say." Russia gripped America's hip harder and bared down, deep throating America then moving his head in a series of quick bobs and insistent sucking.

America cried out with relief, head falling back. "Fuck. Oh fuck, yes! Yes, yes- Ivan!"

His hips arched sharply and were held at bay by Russia's hand, fingers gripping his hair as his whole body tensed with pleasure. It rolled through him like a slow, heated wave, and then he slumped back against the couch, left with the lingering glow of the sensation.

Russia swallowed it down, waiting until he'd finished before pulling back. His thumb began to stroke slow circles into America's hip and he smiled at him affectionately. America's toes slowly uncurled and he relaxed, still panting heavily. He took in a deep breath and released a happy sigh, fingers brushing through Russia's hair gently now. "Wow."

Russia ran his tongue along him a final time, eyes shining with amusement. "I am glad you approve."

"Oh boy do I." America closed his eyes, holding onto what remained of it until that had faded, too. When it was gone he leaned down, grabbing the collar of Russia's shirt and tugging him up. "C'mere, you."

America proceeded to completely surprise Russia, kissing him on the lips. It wasn't gentle or even particularly graceful but it sent heat all the way through him and left him quite speechless. America snorted softly, shifting on the couch to make room then pulling Russia down so they were lying together. His arms snaked around Russia and he gave him a rib-crushing hug before settling casually against him. "That was super nice. You win, man. You win the whole kitchen caboodle."

This all left Russia confused but happy and he even dared to reach up, fingers tracing along America's jaw. "I do not know what a caboodle is but I am glad to accept it."

America laughed softly and pressed a kiss to his nose where he'd bitten it before. Next he trailed down to his lips, the kisses kept casual and sweet. Russia returned them, perplexed but unbelievably pleased by the turn of events. He finally broke the lazy stream of kisses to speak after they had been doing it for a good few minutes. "I am surprised. You do not strike me as one to be this affectionate."

"Man what are you talking about, cuddling is the shit." America burrowed his face into Russia's neck as if to demonstrate. "I like doing it and I figure, hey. You sucked me off. That's way more intimate than kissing. Not exactly escalating the situation."

Russia was not so sure he agreed with that sentiment but he kept that thought to himself and instead pressed another kiss to America's lips. He was perfectly satisfied to keep at this casual display of affection. The next one to interrupt was America, who hummed softly against his mouth before pulling back. "So. For serious, though. Why did you come here really? As much as your excuse amuses me beyond comprehensible reason, I'm not quite that dumb. I mean, close but no cigar. So. What's the deal?"

This was a direction Russia didn't like going nearly as much but he supposed after all that he could speak more freely. Besides, the buzz of alcohol was making him feel more relaxed, moving towards sleepiness, and it was probably doing the same for America. Maybe it would be safe to confide in him. Or he would tell everyone later and mock him for it. Russia decided to take that risk. "I was lonely."

"Huh? Oh. Okay then. But why did you break into my house instead of letting me know you were coming? I could have at least left the door unlocked."

Russia felt his breath catch. America was not angry at him or laughing. Not yet. It was a hopeful sign, though. "I did not expect you to come home at all."

America pulled back, expression scrunching up in confusion. "What do you mean? Why would you come all the way out here if you were lonely if you didn't expect me to show up?"

There were a lot of answers Russia could have given to that. He also could have chosen not to speak at all. Instead he found himself explaining his 'visits'. How he would go to the others' homes and bask in their presence when they were not there. Saying it out loud emphasized how ridiculous and maybe even pathetic it probably was but he explained it all the way through. Might as well so long as he had started. When he could think of nothing else to add he went silent.

America took a moment to process all that. "So you do that whenever you're lonely? That's really fucking depressing. You're bumming me out right now. Why don't you just tell someone you want to hang out? I mean I know some of us aren't the best for that kind of thing but there has to be someone. …Right?"

Russia was quiet a few moments longer, stroking along America's back. "I suppose so. I know there are those who would not turn me away. I do not wish to feel like they are doing it out of obligation or fear. I want to be somewhere I felt wanted. If someone does not know I am there, I am not technically unwanted."

"Ivan…Dude. Do you really feel that way? That's some serious crazy talk right now. You're a pretty cool guy. I mean not nearly as cool as me and sometimes whoa Nelly can you get a little high strung. I mean there are moments in the past I wasn't able to understand why you- Okay I'm guessing by that look you're telling me to shut up right now so I'll stop harping on that. You're not a bad guy, though. You can really kick ass at video games, anyway. And you give good blow jobs. You know. If that makes you feel better to hear."

Russia tried to remain thoroughly unamused by the clumsy attempt at comfort but he couldn't help but laugh, a small spark of warmth starting in his chest. "So may I ask why you did not kick me out when you found me here? Other than your persistent opinion that I am inhumanely intoxicated, that is. Which I am not, if you were still under that impression."

It was America's turn to be silent and then he shrugged, shifting a little closer to Russia again. "I was having a bad day and I was feeling kind of lonely myself. Didn't really have anything to look forward to but chilling by myself and rotting my brain with some television and then here you were all vague and confused and playing video games. Was it shocking and more than a little startling? Yes. Yes it was. But I guess I just saw that you were having fun and I wanted to have fun, too."

"I see." So sometimes even America felt lonely. That was oddly comforting. Silence stretched from seconds to minutes as both ruminated over the situation. How curious and yet what a good stroke of fortune to bring them together after all.

After a time America spoke, his hand running along Russia's side. "From now on you should come here when you're lonely, man. Tell me and we'll do stuff together. No reason for us to be bored or bummed or whatever. I'd prefer you do call in advance next time, though."

There was a beat of hesitation in which Russia was trying to determine how serious America was being. He sounded sincere. Was it really okay? It took a moment but he tentatively smiled. "Thank you. I will take you up on that. The invitation is extended to you as well."

"Ahaha! Hell no, come here. Your home is weird."

Russia's smile tightened and he reached up to pinch America's cheek. "Careful, Alfred, or I may have to replace your entire floor with Legos."

"Oh my god, you wouldn't dare." He would. America knew he would. Only Russia was capable of such diabolical evil. America smacked his hand away and reached up to squish Russia's cheeks. "Do that and you'll live to regret it."

"Will I? Will I really?" Russian put his hand at the back of America's neck, pulling him closer for a kiss with his squished face.

America stopped squishing his face long enough to kiss him back properly then pulled away. "Your coat will need to be dried carefully. Probably won't be done until morning. You should spend the night. Sounds like you don't have anywhere else to go, anyway."

"I will take you up on that offer as well. …Thank you, Alfred." He suddenly felt flustered and America had to push his face away because the expression he was making was too cute to handle.

"No problem. You're still cleaning up that Chinese from earlier and you can't use my toothbrush." Russia laughed at him, pulling America closer and marveling that he was allowed to. That this was okay and America had let him know he was wanted.

As the two of them argued over sleeping arrangements the chill of Russia's loneliness began to thaw like warm spring.


End file.
